


and you’re stuck there wishing

by skyqueenclarke



Series: life keeps turning [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Multi, Post Finale, and her feelings on everyone are open to interpretation, i feel like i should warn you that we're going with canon, the only people Clarke kisses here are Finn and Lexa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyqueenclarke/pseuds/skyqueenclarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a rule, it takes less than a month for one to fall in love with Clarke Griffin.</p><p>(Alternatively, Clarke falls from the sky, kills a boy, finds a girl and goes home)</p>
            </blockquote>





	and you’re stuck there wishing

**Wells: 14 days (or so he guesses)**

He can’t be sure, of course. He and Clarke met when they were only babies, and, though he prides himself on his good memory, it would be a lie to say he remembers their meeting.

But he knows his earliest memories, remembers looking at her, laughing on Unity Day, drawing with chubby hands, or hiding behind her father’s legs, and seeing the sun itself, even then.

His father says it took him about two weeks to warm up to Clarke, so he imagines that’s when it happened.

It scares him, sometimes, how much he would do for this girl. Wells is sensible and smart, and knows that his choices regarding Clarke are anything but.

He never tells her, but some of the pencils and ink he got her weren’t always legal. But it never seemed absurd, then – drawing made Clarke happy, made her eyes shine and a giggle escape her lips.

He would gladly go to the Sky Box for that.

When her father gets floated, he’s the one who slips the guards extra rations so they’ll give her charcoal.

(He could let them take a note, he supposes, explain it wasn’t him. He thought about it once or twice, but he remembered her clinging to her mother, crying, and never finished the note)

She’s a force of nature, that girl, and he almost pities them, Blake, Murphy, and the others, trying to get in her way, trying to claim earth when she was born to conquer it.

(She’s the sun, remember? And maybe it’s why he pities Collins the most, getting so close, begging to burn)

When she forgives him, he allows himself that selfish moment of joy. The knowledge of the truth might have brought her pain, but she’s close and warm in his arms, and he can’t remember the last moment he held her like that.

(That’s a lie, of course he does, remembers holding her as she laughed, blew kisses to a girl he didn’t know, how she clung to him, young and happy, and how it made his heart soar)

She’ll never love him, he thinks, but he had made peace with that years before the ground, no matter what Blake thinks – here, he can’t always protect her, he knows, but maybe he can try, maybe he can help her lead, support her, maybe die helping her, and it would be enough, and he knows it will hurt her less, not loving him.

(The one thing he didn’t want, he decided, when he was only a child, was a life of impossible decisions and a tragic end)

(And any decision that made Clarke a little happier was as easy as any decision could be and an end that would help her would be the best he could wish for)

He has only a few moments to think, after Charlotte’s knife. He thinks of Clarke, of course, golden hair and beautiful smile. _I came for you_ , he had told her, and he regrets it now, wonders if she’ll blame herself, if he’ll become another ghost to her.

 _The son won't bear the punishment of his father's sin,_ he remembers from a book about God, and almost laughs. It’s a tragic end after all, he supposes.

(He wishes he could’ve bore the punishment for Clarke’s sins instead. She hasn’t committed them yet, not really, but he knows her better than anyone and it’s only a matter of time)

 

 

**Finn: 10 days (were enough)**

His first thought, on Earth, it’s that Raven would’ve been amazed. Later, he’ll hold that to his chest, remember that he did think of her, hadn’t changed so completely.

(Although, of course, he didn’t think about the two people that were dead because of him, so he supposes that’s not a good thing to hold on to)

But that thought only lasts a moment, and his eyes are drawn to the Ark princess, all clear skin and good clothes, holding the map with a frown in her face. _You are literally standing on top of a dream, princess,_ he thinks and shakes his head. Maybe solitary made her incapable of having fun.

He never really regrets, going to talk to her, following her to Mount Weather (well, to the bridge at least). He thinks about it, later, looking at the bodies surrounding him, at her look of horror.

(And what does it say, about him, that, for a long moment, he thought she was just surprised to see him?)

It was worth it, still. Kissing her, being with her, seeing her laugh – Raven was a star in his heart, family he would always cherish, but this girl was made of something else altogether, iron and earth, strong and determined. A princess, really, that was making herself into a queen for them.

(It never really occurred him that she might not want the pedestal they put her in)

It hurts, seeing the look in her face, like she doesn’t recognizes him. He knows he deserves it, but it’s hard to explain, the despair, the panic, the thought that they had her, _they had her right there and he couldn’t find her_. The worst part is that he can barely remember those 18 people, their faces or who he killed first, only _clarkeclarkeclarke._

He doesn’t want to die. He wants to stay, and maybe become worthy, of Raven’s loyalty and Clarke’s love. But they’ll protect him to the end, because of love or guilt he doesn’t know, but he still knows enough about himself to know he can’t let them die for him.

When she comes, it’s a like a dream. A kiss and _I love you_ , and he doesn’t believe her, not really, but he’ll be glad to pretend. He thinks, for a moment, that she has come to save him, that she’ll free his bindings and run with him, away from his mistakes.

But he feels the knife, closes his eyes, and, oh, he really should have known, brave princess, kind princess.

(No way Bellamy was the one with the guts to kill Atom)

She couldn’t risk war for him, and she’s right of course, wasn’t he the one who said they needed peace with the Grounders? She’ll be good to them, she’ll protect them, Raven and the others, until the end, he knows.

(He’s disposable, or maybe his sins are just too great, even if she told him _I can’t do this without you,_ he doesn’t know, but he rather not think about it. She’s here, holding him close, her face on his neck, her voice in his ear, _You’re okay,_ and he truly loves her beyond measure)

 _Thanks, princess,_ and he hopes she’ll remember him, that even if she couldn’t truly love him then, she will love his memory freely, one day, when the blood has dried. _Everything that's happened, everything I've done, all that matters is that you're okay, that you forgive me._

 _It’s still true, princess, it’s all I need,_ he wants to tell her, but his eyes go dark, and she never gets to hear it.

(He doesn’t know it, but that’s for the best – it never occurred him, then, that she might never forgive him)

 

 

**Lexa: 12 days (for a girl to shake her world)**

A girl falls from the sky and changes the world, and it’s ridiculous and absurd, and sometimes Lexa can’t believe it herself.

Her people whisper quietly about it, amazed, afraid – not two nights pass after their retreat when the first scouts come, telling of the _Skai Kru_ , marching home, leaving a dead mountain behind them.

They say she’s the daughter of gods, _Wor_ and _Skai_ , or a fallen angel, or even the spirit of a Commander of before, reborn to save them from the Mountain.

(And, they whisper, even more quietly, she’ll come to act her vengeance on them, for turning their backs on her)

It’s all the same. They call her legend, and Lexa thinks of Clarke, betrayed, looking at her like Lexa had destroyed everything she held dear, so very human, so very broken.

She wishes she had said more. Maybe if she had told Clarke about the way her eyes shone when she talked about her people, or the way Lexa used to watch her draw invisible patterns on the table, or how she wanted to lay beside her and just feel her heartbeat.

Maybe. It’s no matter, now. Sky People will return to their home, and her people are too afraid to go near them – she expects she won’t see Clarke for a long time.

So, of course, Clarke comes on the next moonless night. She’s alone, wearing the same clothes she had when Lexa last saw her. Her people recognize her and open ways for her. Only Indra and her warriors stand and block her path.

(It’s useless, of course, Clarke had walked right into Indra’s spear before, it’s not a blade that will stop her, as they well know)

“Let her pass”, Lexa commands and her word it’s still law. She goes quietly to her cabin, wonders if she’ll die tonight.

She hears Clarke follow, but doesn’t turn to look at the girl. She’s a coward.

“I left them”, Lexa turns, then, catches a flash of blonde, and turns her eyes away again. “Everyone on the mountain is dead so I left”.

She’s near, and Lexa startles when she feels her hands, cold and callused, on her face.

“Don’t you dare look away from me”, she says, and Lexa shivers.

 _I didn’t make you like this, you burned 300 people before you even knew my name,_ she wants to say, but looks at Clarke’s face and falls quiet.

“What do you want from me?” she whispers, and wishes she didn’t sound so scared, so _Lexa._  

(She is _Heda_ , now more than ever – _you’re one and the same,_ Costia used to tell her, but it’s too cruel of a truth for her to accept)

Clarke stops at that – maybe she hadn’t thought this through, hadn’t realized that nothing Lexa could say could bring her peace.

“I can’t be who I was before” Clarke says, finally, so Lexa nods, and takes her hand.

She takes Clarke to the tree line – Polis is busy and striving with energy tonight, but no one bothers them. She takes a knife and cuts a lock of Clarke’s hair, holds in her hand like it’s precious (it is, _it is_ ).

 _This is where I buried myself after she died,_ she wants to say, or maybe, _who you were is dead and now you must find someone else in the ashes._

She says nothing, but she thinks Clarke understands all the same. They bury the hair, and watch the starts for several hours.

When they return to her cabin, Clarke is quiet, and Lexa says nothing when tears fall from her eyes. They lay side by side that night and Clarke whispers, so quietly, small like she never was.

“How do I stop seeing their faces?”, and Lexa wishes she had a better answer, was a better leader, a stronger one, one that had the secrets to truly locking up your heart so she could do what must be done without guilt.

“You might never stop. Just… try to focus on the things around you, and not the ghosts of the past. Your people will live and that’s all that matters”.

Clarke has nothing to say to that, of course. It’s easier said than done, Lexa well knows – she still hasn’t followed her own advice.

(Although she looks at Clarke and sees only gold, determination, eyes like the sky, where she used to look at other girls and see dark eyes, long hair, and, still, sometimes, hear Costia’s laugh)

“The dead are gone, the living are hungry”, Clarke says, staring at the ceiling, and if only it was that simple.

Clarke stays for longer than Lexa thought she would, talks to the children and the younger ones only, learning words in their language and about their culture, their names and stories, and people worship her and fear her in equal measure, give her information as if she could punish them if they didn’t speak fast enough.

(Once, Lexa hears her ask the names of the people that died in the ring of fire)

She and Lexa don’t speak, not really, not about anything important, after that first night. Lexa longs to ask her where’s she’s been, where she’ll go, but she’s afraid it might only drive her away.

So she watches from afar, watches Clarke with her people, and it burns, to know she can’t keep both. There’s a little girl, Georgia, she thinks, that adores Clarke, follows her everywhere, giving her flowers – she barely speaks English, but Clarke doesn’t seem to mind.

When Lexa sees her talking to the little girl one day, quietly and seriously, she knows it’s coming to an end.

That night, when they return to her cabin, Clarke kisses her, and Lexa feels like she’s drowning. _Just give me this_ , Clarke says, and Lexa would give her _everything_.

It’s all the things she had dreamt of, every touch and every caress. Clarke is sure, determined, but surprisingly gentle, and it feels wrong, to be treated this kindly, after everything.

They lay together, after, trading stories, silly things, and more precious because of it.

 _I grew up near the ocean, I used to watch my mother sew for hours, Anya always groaned anytime we were near water because I couldn’t concentrate, Costia helped me learn English,_ and, in return, Clarke would say, _Wells and I used to sneak out just to watch the Earth from above, My father gave me my first sketchbook, Once I got so drunk I ended sleeping in a closet in Mecha Station, the forest is more beautiful than I could've imagined._

Lexa falls asleep like that, imagining how it must have been among the stars, to look down and not know the world that was waiting for her. She whispers, quietly, _ai hod yu in,_ and Clarke doesn’t answer.

(Lexa whishes she could pretend it was because she didn’t hear)

She wakes up with a knife pressed against her stomach. Clarke is there, hovering over her, tears falling from eyes, staring intently at the knife.

Lexa remembers the boy, the murderer, _Finn,_ and how he died with a kiss and clean cut.

(There are worse ways to go, she thinks)

But Clarke is not going to kill her, she can tell. The girl above her is too silent, too broken, and maybe she could’ve loved Lexa, in another world.

(Maybe they could’ve met in the ocean, as children, laughing and playing, with no knowledge of war or the mountain, no _heda_ in either of their shoulders to haunt them) 

(This is not that world)

“Sometimes I think it would be easier if I didn’t care”, Clarke says, and Lexa pushes herself up. It makes the knife really press against her stomach, and she thinks the blade might even draw some blood, so Clarke pulls it farther from her.

“I told you - _hodnes laik kwelnes_ ” and she must have a death wish, repeating this words to Clarke, knowing the way that missile changed her, how she’d rather walk into hell than risk Octavia’s death again.

Clarke smiles, but it’s dead, and Lexa shivers, not from the cold.

(Maybe a fallen angel wasn’t so wrong after all)

“It’s the only thing that’s keeping me going”, and it’s not quite true, not really, not when she can’t bear to be near the ones she loves most. But Clarke will go home eventually, as surely as Lexa’s spirit will find a new _heda_.

(They are leaders, the two of them, no matter what Clarke is feeling at the moment, and their people will always come first. Lexa knows how it’s like, to wonder constantly how they’re doing – no matter how being their commanderchanges and destroys her, she couldn't truly trust anyone else to protect them)

Clarke looks at her for the longest time, softly. Maybe she found in herself to forgive Lexa, and she just can’t forget. Maybe she wishes neither of them belonged so completely to their people, so they could maybe belong to each other.

(That’s what Lexa wishes, at least)

There’s so much she wants to say, but she never had a way with words. Clarke just kisses her one last time (it feels like a last time too), and pulls away, gets dressed, both of them silent.

She stands before all of the leaders that night, in the central of the capital, like she truly owns this world. _Not a drop of sky blood will be spilled_ , she says, _or I will avenge my people if it’s the last thing I do,_ and no one dares raise a weapon to her, not even Indra.

Clarke looks at Indra for a second, thinking, and says, loud, so everyone will hear, _Lincoln is with us now_. The older woman nods, and maybe she’s thankful for the protection this offers him, and Lexa won’t fault her loyalty to that boy, not when Indra still stands beside her, still follows her broken commander. 

(There’s war coming, she thinks, twelve clans with nothing to unite them, her world falling apart thanks to a girl who fell from the sky, and it will a harsh winter. She fears for her people, and she knows she needs all the loyalty she can get) 

Clarke leaves after that, without a word to the rest of the people. To Lexa, she spares a look, and maybe she hopes, like Lexa does, that the next world will be the one with the ocean and the laughing.

(Or maybe she wishes she had pressed that knife harder after all)

  

 

**Bellamy: 30 days (until he realized)**

Octavia mentioned, once, back at the beginning, when her anger still burned bright, that he barely knew Clarke. _Not even two months,_ she had said, and she was right, of course.

But Bellamy only needed five seconds to look at Octavia and know he would die for her. As far as he’s concerned, it actually took a long time with Clarke.

He wishes he could explain to Octavia, or maybe even to Raven, but he’s not sure how to put it into words. How he had stopped fighting the grounder, had lifted his head to see Clarke get into the dropship, knowing he was probably going to die in a circle of fire. How he hadn't cared, not really, because Octavia was safe and Clarke would be too.

(He had told Miller, hours before, _no matter what, make sure she gets into that dropship, she won’t accept she can’t save everyone_ , and he knows his princess can make hard choices, but he also knows sometimes she needs a push)

It should be a terrifying realization, understanding just how much he cares for her, knowing he’s okay with dying as long as she’s okay, but that’s the only way Bellamy knows how to love.

When she throws herself into his arms, impossibly warm and happy and _alive,_ he can barely believe, because he knows he doesn’t deserve this, to be surrounded by the two people who mean so much to him.

(He didn’t deserve forgiveness either, but Clarke gave it to him anyway)

After the mountain, her absence is a tangible thing, and he knows the other look at him with pity, that Octavia resents him, just a little, for not being whole, even when she’s right beside him. 

(He doesn’t blame her, will always hate Lincoln a little for taking a part of her, even if she gave it freely)

Sometimes, he wishes he could be angrier, like Raven pretends to be, or miss her in that distant way he misses his mother, like most of the delinquents do, but he doesn’t know how to do that. He feels her everyday, in every breath, sees her in every shadow, and looks at the trees for hours to no end, just wondering if she’s okay.

He surrounds himself with her, sleeps in her tent, sits closely to their kids, drinks with Raven until neither of them can stand, never resents Octavia’s anger, not once, just feels sad because he knows Clarke would agree with her. 

(He wonders how he would feel, had Octavia died with that missile. He wouldn’t be able to look at Clarke after that, or even forgive her, he knows, but he’s also not sure he could have truly hated her, and _that_ scares him more than he can say)

He wants to laugh sometimes, because he told Wells, _she doesn’t see you_ , thinking he knew so well, but he was a fool, in more ways than one. Wells didn’t care, he realizes one day, if Clarke ever loved him back, just wanted to be near her, protect her, because it was all he knew.

He had been right, then, to say they had a lot in common – on Clarke’s absence, he only thinks of building a camp she’ll like, of checking with the others to see if Jasper understands yet, of making sure Octavia will accept her with open arms when she comes back, and doesn’t think to resent her or hate her for abandoning him, not after that first day.

The first news they have on her whereabouts come a month after she left, after some grounders fell to their knees after they saw Lincoln and Octavia, promising they didn’t mean to point their weapons at them, telling of _Klark kom skai kru,_ who stood among their leaders and said she would punish those who hurt her people, and it explains why no one has tried to attacked their camp.

It’s the first time Jasper doesn’t flinch when he hears her name, and it makes Octavia’s eyes soften, just a little, but he already knew how much she cared about them all. He’s just glad that means she’s alive.

(Still, he dreams of her, that night, standing above all others that have led longer and more people than her, like a goddess of sky eyes and blonde halo, and he knows that Hera, Athena and Persephone had nothing on her)

That’s how they receive news of Clarke, in the time she’s away – snippets of a legend, and it’s hard to say what’s truth and what’s not, but no tales tell of her death, so he’s thankful for that. He imagines her to be happy, meeting other tribes, seeing the ocean for the first time, away, for once, of the ghosts that haunt her - he makes up his own story for Clarke of the Sky People in his head, more beautiful than Helen, more wild than Artemis, more terribly human than history will ever know. 

When she comes home, it’s night.

He’s busy and not close to the gate, of course, because Clarke never made it easy for him. It’s Miller who comes, running, bumping into a table and making everything on it fly, but he’s not even upset, because he looks at his friend and he _knows._

She’s surrounded by their people, and he wants to cry, because it’s all he ever wanted for her. Monty is glued to her side, as is Abby, Jasper smiling tentative to their side, some of the kids fighting to see who can hug her next and Clarke is actually _laughing._ For some reason, Murphy is there too, looking absolutely awkward, but Bellamy honestly could not care less, so he turns to watch Clarke again.

She’s thinner, and there’s a mark in her chest, a burn, he thinks, and a long scar next to her eye, but she’s smiling, her eyes soft, and when Octavia comes to hug her, and gives her a folded piece of paper, whispering something, Clarke lets out a noise that’s half a sob, half a laugh.

He must be watching her for a while, because Miller bumps his shoulder, smiling freely, and the next thing he knows, he’s running. The kids part, cheering, and he might have pulled her from Abby and Monty, but he can’t help it, putting his arms around her waist, lifting her up. 

She clings to him, and he can feel her smile against his neck, and god, he loves her, he loves her so much he’s just thankful he gets to feel this way, and she never has to feel anything for him back.

( _He would do anything, to protect her._ And to make her smile, and live, and laugh, and she’s his princess, and co-leader, and friend, and he’s suddenly so _thankful_ she exists)

He puts her down only because he knows that are others she must want to see. But she smiles, puts her hand on his face, says _thank you,_ looks around at their people, all fighting to tell her what they’ve been doing in the time she was gone. For a second, she looks worried, like she wants to say more, her eyes darting to Murphy, but one of the kids calls her and she's distracted again. 

Octavia pulls him to the side, and he watches Clarke greet everyone else, her shoulders already straightening at some of the news, and he honestly can’t wait for their next council meeting.

(They don’t use the pin in the ground, but there’s a chair on the head of the table that he, and sometimes Kane, sit on, and he knows they’ll both gladly leave it vacant for her)

(Abby had refused to sit on it at all, and had only shrugged at his and Kane’s surprise)

Lincoln holds her head the way Bellamy had seen grounders do, Monty goes to steal another hug, Megan keeps tugging her arm to tell Clarke how she led their last hunting trip, and Raven pushes them all out of her way and throws herself at Clarke, both of them actually falling to the ground.

He fells silly, suddenly, watching Wick and Kane help them to their feet, everyone laughing and watching her. His love suddenly feels so small, next to this, next to Clarke surrounded by people who would fight for her, who she kills and destroys for, and that accept her with open arms, their leader without question. 

She told him, once, that he inspires them and it might be true, but, god, it might not be an everyday thing, something obvious and bright, roused by the heat of the moment and an inspirational speech, but they love her, and they’d die for her, he thinks, if it ever came to that, because she would never let it come to that.

 _Good,_ he thinks, pulls Octavia closer, sees Clarke turn to smile up at him, _she deserves all the love she can get_.

(One day, maybe, she’ll want to love him back the way he loves her, but it will always be dwarfed by this, he thinks, by all those people they both gave up so much for. And it’s not scary or surprising, not really, to think she might let him die – that she might kill him - to protect them all)

He might be gone, one day, like Finn, like Wells (like, Lexa, if he is to believe Octavia’s word), and even some of their people might fall, to disease and winter and war.

But she holds his stare, smiles, and it’s so painfully obvious, how surprised she is by their warm welcome, so he thinks it will be okay, as long as Clarke has someone there to welcome her home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Skai Kru = sky people  
> Wor = war  
> Skai = sky  
> Heda = Commander  
> ai hod yu in = I love you  
> hodnes laik kwelnes = Love is weakness
> 
> heeeey! As this show has taken over my life, this was born. I still don’t like it as much as part 1 of the series, but alas. The show will probably make this completely false anyway, because no way they’ll have that many calm months (watching you, Alie). I'm considering a part 3 of this, because honestly, I've written everyone's view on Clarke and still haven't written anything from Clarke POV.
> 
> Also, this fic has been entirely inspired by this post: http://trigedakrulexa.tumblr.com/post/114879054045/yayapplepancake-clarkesquad-i-think-my-favorite 
> 
> Basically, I love Clarke, everyone should love Clarke, as far as I’m concerned, everyone does love Clarke. Clarke is just not ready to love anyone yet though, poor baby (except her people, ugh, my true OTP, Clarke x Sky People).
> 
> Uhm, what else? Please let us not fight over shipping, let’s face it, none of them are good enough for Clarke (maybe Raven whhaaat?). Just kidding, but honestly, everything here is just my headcanon, for all we know Lexa and Clarke are getting married or Clarke is greeting Bellamy with a gigantic kiss the second she walks into camp. Who knows? Ship your thing, just remember to accept Clarke as your lord and savior. 
> 
> You can follow me on tumblr if you'd like - skyqueenclarke.tumblr.com


End file.
